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Showing posts from January, 2013

Holy Shit

A group of Bhutanese villagers on pilgrimage to Bodh Gaya left shit story this time. As usual, pilgrims dotted the holy land with bigger mounts of shits everywhere they lived. This forced Bihari locals to complain. And that complain reached one of the lamas who was a leader of bigger Bhutanese pilgrim pack. The lama agreed that Bhutanese are forced to use open area for toilet because of huge pilgrim population but he also protested that other indians also use open area for toilet. The Indian guy who was complaining said this, " Indian shits are eaten by dogs but Bhutanese shits are not eaten by dogs because Bhutanese eat too many chillies and it is too hot even for dogs."

Dying Culture of Crying…

During one of the religious gatherings of Sharchokpa women in Phuentsholing, I heard a woman say, “ When my father died, there were 18 people crying. But when her father died, there were only 4 people crying.” It would seem obvious for an outsider to say that it is only natural for people to cry when someone dies and there is nothing so fascinating about it. However, if we had the opportunity to visit one of the grieving families at remote eastern Bhutan, we would have understood the intricacies associated with the culture of crying. When someone dies in eastern Bhutan, there would be someone or many people crying near the dead body. And the most beautiful  thing about it is that, they followed certain rhythm, rhyme and pattern. In fact, some villagers are known to have used the services of old women in the village who could create atmosphere of deep mourning. And it was perfected over long period of customary following. So it was believed that if there were more people crying, it w

The Girl in Green Boot

Finally, I have settled for Kinzang Tshering (Delog)'s " the girl in green boot " for my book " timeless diary... ". It feels nice to add my name on someone's work hahahaha. Working extra hard to get my work published this Spring. I need all the wishes and blessings that all of you out there can spare... at least for this book. I owe immense gratitude to Delog (Kinzang Tshering) for enigmatic water colour painting. The lady in the painting is the only one I have seen in "Green Boot." This makes the lady in green boot very special. Happy Chunipa Losar to everyone out there.

From Dust Storm to Dark Future

Finally, it was decision time. As I walked into my office today, a short statured man walks in, greets me and places a letter from Head Quarter on my table. I read through and grazed my eyes on him. He was our new security guard. He would be replacing Sonam Wangda. There was this complete feeling of helplessness. Sonam Wangda is a dead soul who has long been forsaken by friends, relatives and neighbours. I know Sonam Wangda since the time I joined my office in Phuentsholing about three years ago. In whole of my life, I have never come across another miserable man like him. Oblivious to the fact that he has six children and a wife dependent upon him, he has strayed away….strayed too far away that I fear, he would never be able to retrace his feet again. As an immediate supervisor, I sometimes counseled him and many other times chided him but he never rose above the dust storm he created. Like a dung beetle that preferred shit over other things, he sunk into a world beyond my imagi